


An Angel's Song

by Belbe



Category: Devil May Cry, Devil May Cry 4
Genre: Cambion, Demon, F/M, Feelings, Fighting, Gate, God - Freeform, Guardian - Freeform, Hell, Latin, Lost - Freeform, Mundus - Freeform, Protection, Singing, Survival, Tsundere, You Shall Not Pass, angel - Freeform, care, corde natus ex parentis, dies irae, fight, leeloo dallas multipass
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-09-13 22:50:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16901307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Belbe/pseuds/Belbe
Summary: A joke in a chat became a "what if", then it became a "but how?" and then when an idea sparked, both me and fellow writer Mama Star worked out the extremely rare shipping that is Kyrie x Vergil. I think this is one of the very few ways this could have happened, IF this and if that changed so Vergil could really appear in DMC4.If you want to check out another version of this story, please visit Shooting_Starl 's sory:https://archiveofourown.org/works/16922952Enough talking, I'll let you enjoy the story.





	An Angel's Song

**KYRIE**

Kyrie kept her eyes on the ground while she walked, careful not to trip over the dirt in the ground. Everywhere she set foot, it felt as if she was sinking into the earth. The soft soil didn’t support her weight at all, revealing things of nightmares where her feet set.

Hell wasn’t what she had expected, and yet somehow it was everything she thought it would be. The desolate landscape was filled with rust-colored dirt, old bones sticking out from the surface as if the earth itself was a giant rotting corpse. The air was stale and smelled of copper, its hue the unnamed color of the skies before a storm. And yet, not a gust of wind passed. No sun showed itself either - all of the sky was just the same drab green and grey color.

The dirt clung to Kyrie’s once white dress, and stained most of her skirt by now, although she tried to be careful. Even following in her companion’s footsteps didn’t help much. Both of them had moved in silence for some while, Kyrie fighting against the impulse to try and start conversation. Something told her the person in front of her wasn’t at all keen to small talk, nor to light-hearted banter to try and keep their spirits up.  
Finally, she couldn’t resist the one, most important question.

“Sir… Do you think we will find a way out of here?”

In front of her, Vergil stopped and turned back, giving her a cold stare. Then he looked around, taking in their surroundings. They hadn’t passed anything meaningful during their journey; at least, nothing that could give them a clue as to how escape their prison. Kyrie had seen a forest full of wilted trees, the bark so dry it crumbled to dust when she tried gathering some wood for a fire later on. A few ruins tattered with stains and demonic skeletons had been deemed unworthy of investigation by Vergil.  
Right now, they stood atop a small hill, a few black rocks sticking out from the ground, offering at least a cleaner surface to sit on than the blood-like dirt. Vergil slowly shook his head, averting his stare from Kyrie.

“If there is one, it’s not here. No need to linger in this place.”

His voice was deep and strong, and once more, Kyrie couldn’t shake the feeling he seemed so oddly _familiar_ , reminding her of someone. If only this man could take off his cape, so she could see him better…  
All she knew about him was his name.

“Perhaps we could, sir?” she gently offered. “I'm aware that you are far stronger than me, but we have been walking for what seems like hours, with no water nor break.”

“I don't care. Stay here or follow me, but don't get in my way,” Vergil replied.

He started walking again, leaving a hesitant Kyrie behind. She slouched down on one of the rocky surfaces, keeping an eye on Vergil's back, who slowly proceeded further ahead.  
Just a short two minutes’ rest, that was all she needed, just a bit of respite…

She buried her face in her hands, wishing Nero was somehow near. She wouldn’t wish on him to land in Hell itself, but he would at least make sure she was okay.   
Kyrie scolded herself in silence for being so selfish.  
She got up again, wincing against the pain in her feet, and followed after the brown cloak in the sea of dark red.

Kyrie knew many of the stories about Hell - the Order of the Sword had made sure a wide part of Sparda’s legacy was readily available to all the followers who wished to know more about their legendary savior. The young woman had studied the dusty tomes, sang grace about Heaven, and had shivered at the descriptions of the devils and their home, hoping she’d never have to face one or the other.

Yet, in the chaos that broke out at Fortuna, she’d found herself in the middle of a fight, separated from Nero.When she tried to flee from a group of attackers, she was knocked into a portal, together with this stranger. When she came to, she found herself in this unsettling landscape she wished she could have escaped from hours ago. The stranger had kept his cape on and growled his name at her when she prodded him for information, but refused to tell her anything else. She only knew he carried a weapon and was ready to draw it, given the stance he adapted beneath his cape. If it was truly Hell, the only one that could offer her a chance for escape and survival was this stoic stranger. So she tagged along, despite her pain and fear.

More dull hours passed by, and Kyrie found her mind becoming numb with the faint stench and stale air of the underworld. Her pace slowed, and her eyes started losing focus. When she stumbled for the fourth time, Vergil had to pull her up by her arm to get her going again.  
Finally, they stopped, at what seemed to be a bog - the hellish equivalent of it.

It was a terrifying sight, full of black pools, hazy mists flowing over the bubbling, still waters. The few plants that grew there looked poisonous and void of all nutrition. Kyrie sank onto the ground, no longer caring for the additional stains her dress would get. Her limbs trembled out of sheer exhaustion when she tried to compose herself and wrap her arms around her.

Vergil considered the tired Kyrie for a second, but if he had thoughts about her, his expression did not betray it. Instead, he looked around again, eyes narrowing when he spotted something. He walked towards the bog, alert steps guiding him to a few plants that resembled leek, but with round, ragged leaves. A calculated pull at the stem released the plant from the earth, the bulbous roots loose in the wet, black earth. He jumped back over the treacherous wet patch, landing with a soft thud on shore.

“These are edible,” Vergil pointed, locking eyes with Kyrie when she lifted her weary head. She only nodded, thankful for the pause and at the foresight of something to eat.  
After a while, she got up and helped Vergil with starting a fire, collecting some of the dry foliage on the edge of the bog to use as tinder. It took them a few tries, but they managed to wake a small set of flames, allowing them to roast the roots slowly.  
When they were done, Vergil rolled the vegetables out of the fire using the nose of his boot. Kyrie slowly peeled the burnt outer layer off the tuber, then set her teeth in the moist root. It was bitter and faintly mealy, but it tasted like a feast after a whole day of fasting, and she shared the meal in silence with Vergil.

When she was done, Kyrie leaned back against a rock, feeling more at ease now her hunger and thirst were temporarily gone. She noticed the sky had become darker - it seemed like day and night passed here, too, but much, much slower than in the real world. It wasn’t getting colder, either. Nothing seemed to change in this bleak, desolate landscape.

“Sir Vergil…”

Vergil had been sitting with his eyes closed, arms crossed. A dark pair of leather pants stuck out of his cloak, and she could see a bit more of his face when he turned to her, no emotion in his look.

 

VERGIL

The woman had called his name, disturbing him from his musings. Vergil felt a faint sting of anger, but hided it when he turned to her. He didn’t like the meaningless small talk humans seemed so fond of, but this one had been quiet, mostly. She hadn’t even cried once since they landed here. What more, she was a member of this so-called Order of the Sword, so she might have something interesting to say.

“This place,” she continued, “is it Limbo?”

Vergil straightened his back, considering her again. So she knew something about Hell.

“I suspect so,” he replied.

The young woman nodded sadly, looking around her again, as if the somber surroundings would have more answers to give.

“I thought we would come across someone or.. something,” she shivered.

“Limbo has been dead for hundreds of years. There’s nothing here but a few lost demons. The other Circles are more crowded,” Vergil answered.

The woman looked with surprise at him. Kyrie, that was what she was named, wasn’t she?

“So… You’ve been trapped here before?’

Vergil realised he let out too much, and averted his head. The woman’s eyes were big and brown, like a deer’s, looking at him with pity. And pity was the last he wanted at this moment.

“I’m sorry. I’ll ask no further. I would not like talking about my spending in this place either, if I could avoid it.”

Her apology sounded honest enough, and he curtly nodded. Nothing more needed to be said.

“So if there’s barely a living creature around here, we do not need worry for an attack?”

Vergil gritted his teeth, his resentment against her growing. If she kept talking any more, he would let the first next demon have its way with her before he intervened. He shook his head again.

“No.”

The woman nodded in thanks, not adding anything further. Instead, she got up, weakly trying to keep her balance.

“I’m not going very far,” she timidly said, noticing Vergil was looking at her.

She turned around before he could reply, clasping herself with her arms around her. She slowly put more distance between the resting place and herself, until Vergil could see her no more.  
He frowned, resuming his quiet meditation, trying to determine what direction they should travel in to reach one of the exits. There were seven, if he remembered correctly, but he didn’t know how to find them. All he knew was that there was a guardian, a _thing_ that didn’t let anyone pass lest they paid a price. And no one knew what that price was except for Mundus - a being that Vergil would rather obliterate and burn than ask for help.

Time passed, slowly, and Vergil was none the wiser. The woman had not yet returned, and he wanted to continue travelling. If she wanted to find the escape too, she’d better hurry.

Vergil got up, dusting off his cloak, and tried to see if she was close by yet. He could just leave her, if he wanted. She could follow his trail.  
He hesitated another few moments. Then he started walking, keeping a sharp eye on his surroundings. Curse that woman. Making him lose precious time. 

........................................................................................

Vergil found her not too long after, but he heard her before he saw her. Kyrie had found a small recess and sat with her back to him, singing in the old Latin language.

 _“Preces meae non sunt dignae_  
_Sed tu, bonus, fac benigne_ _  
Ne perenni cremer igne...”_

With a shock, Vergil ceased walking. It was a classic old church song, but the way she sang it…

 _“Oro supplex et acclinis_  
_Cor contritum quasi cinis_ _  
_ _Gere curam mei finis_...”

A shiver started on his right arm, and raised goosebumps all the way up to his neck. He felt the fine hairs on his arm stand up straight while the clear voice of the singing woman echoed hauntingly through the air.  
Every note she sang rang of emotion, and Vergil felt himself gasping for air as, when she finished the last note, her voice wavered and broke.

 

**KYRIE**

  
Kyrie hunched forward and held onto the golden necklace she was wearing. She started sobbing quietly, too overcome by grief to hold it in any longer. The day had been too long, her mind had been tormented too much, and she felt all alone in the bleak desert. She had company, but he was cold and distant, and barely accepted her following him, even though she had tried not to trouble him. All she had was her voice and the songs of the church, with lyrics that spoke of salvation and hope.  
She could not give up hope. Nero was waiting for her, and the longer she was away, the more he would be worried. The sooner she started walking again, the sooner she would get to see him again.

Kyrie pushed herself up, dusting some dirt off her dress, and turned around to walk uphill again, back to the place where Vergil hopefully still sat.

She startled when she saw him standing several meters away, the hood of his cape pushed back. Underneath was a scalp of white hair, combed back, and a stern, solemn face. The man looked as if he had seen a ghost, his forehead cleaved with a frown. Kyrie realized that he looked so much like-

Vergil shook his head, as if something was bothering him and shaking his head would make it go away. His frown cleared when he looked back at Kyrie, and he turned around without a word, making his way back up. He lifted his left hand, gesturing her to follow him.  
This time, Kyrie didn't hesitate and hurried after him, ignoring the pain in her feet. If Vergil found a way out, she would be close to him. Fortuna and Nero were waiting.

 

They followed a trail next to the bog, their steps treading on a barely visible path. Kyrie took note of Vergil’s alertness and carefully considered where to step. The bubbling, smelly water was so dark, the pale light didn’t pierce it at all. At times, she thought she saw the water rippling, a shade moving underneath. Who knew what lived there. Kyrie decided she didn’t want to find out.  
Some time later, the bog made way for a rockier surface, stones and gray trees sticking out from the muddy earth. Vergil stuck out his hand, allowing Kyrie to hold onto him while they made their way over the uneven terrain. When the bog was no longer in sight, he halted again, nodding at Kyrie.

“If you need some rest, take it. I’ll keep watch.”

Her face cleared and she smiled relieved at him. By this points, her legs were sore. Her city shoes were barely fit for this hostile land. She ached for some respite.  
As she settled, Vergil sat down on a higher point nearby, looking back at the bog. His cloak slid sideways and revealed a white hilt of a katana, resting in a black sheath. He pulled the katana from the holster at his side, laying it over his knee, then took on the posture of someone ready to wait for a long time.

“Thank you,” Kyrie softly uttered.

Again, Vergil kept quiet, but he acknowledged her gratitude with a curt nod. Right before she closed her eyes, he addressed Kyrie again.

“If you want to sing, you don’t need to seek a lonely place. You can stay.”

Kyrie’s eyelids fluttered while she sleepily smiled at the strange man. He really resembled Nero a lot, even in character. Always refusing to clearly say what he meant, but letting his actions speak instead. Nero was an orphan though. It couldn’t be that this man was…?  
Then sleep overtook Kyrie and led her into a dreamless slumber.

.............................................................................

Everything ached when Kyrie opened her eyes again, her joints stiff and painful from the hard ground she’d been sleeping on. She quickly sat up, then realizing that she wasn’t in a nightmare, but still in the same dreary Limbo. Darkness had overcome the land by now, a pitch black void filling the air, a few red and green stars flickering overhead. Vergil sat close by, his back against the stone.  
Only then Kyrie noticed than he’d covered her with his cloak while she was sleeping. It had barely gotten any colder, but still…

“Thank you, sir Vergil,” she smiled gratefully to him.

There was kindness in him, too, wasn’t there?  
She folded the cloak and handed it to him, stumbling to get upright. He put it back on as soon as Kyrie returned it to him, covering the lush blue and yellow coat he was wearing. He left the cap back, though, and looked back up at Kyrie.

“Should I keep watch in return?” she asked. “You haven’t slept all this time.”

Vergil’s jaw line hardened at the proposal, and she saw a flicker of something hostile in his eyes. Then his posture softened, and he spoke softly.

“Yes. Wake me up as soon as the sky turns lighter again. We shouldn’t tardy.”

He sounded worn out. Kyrie sat down on the stone where Vergil had taken guard earlier, while the latter took place on the ground.

“Understood. Something I should be wary of?”

Vergil sighed, but he sounded more tired than annoyed.

“Anything big that looks as if it belongs in water rather than on land is something you don’t want to meet up close.”

Kyrie nervously eyed the bog, back where they came from.

“...Okay. Anything else?”

It was quiet for a bit, and she thought he’d ignored her, or had fallen asleep, until…

“Sound keeps them away.”

Vergil had turned to his other side, so she couldn’t see his face anymore. Kyrie blinked, but got the hint. She pondered, searching through her knowledge of songs, and then choose one. She drew in air, and softly began.

“ _Corde natus ex parentis  
_ _Ante mundi exordium…”_

Her voice, insecure at first, grew stronger as it filled the silence around them, weaving a barrier between her and unseen monsters that moved in the dark. Kyrie thought of home, of the human realm, and felt a tear slide down her cheek. She missed Nero so much. At night in Fortuna, there would be a full moon by now…

 _“Quæque in his vigent sub alto_  
_solis et lunæ globo_  
_Sæculorum sæculis…”_

She finished the entire song with her eyes closed, keeping her voice steady. By the time she finished, Vergil’s breathing had become slower and his posture more relaxed. Kyrie smiled again, feeling that somehow, she was still safe. She listened to Vergil’s soft breathing for a while, then quietly sang another song, and another one, until the stars started to go out, one by one.

 

**VERGIL**

It had taken him longer than he suspected, but they had arrived at one of the gates. Several old ruins with figures that depicted the traversing of a river lied together. The rubble lay around a hollow - the gate - in the dark red sand, like broken teeth in a gaping mouth.  
The guardian was nowhere to be seen, but Vergil’s senses were on high alert. _Something_ was close by, eagerly inspecting the half-demon and his female companion. It was curious, and hungry. Hungry for a toll that had not yet been named.

Vergil knew he could still fight, but he wasn’t in peak condition. It had taken them three days in Hell to reach the gate, and they’d encountered a small troup of demons in meantime. Vergil had won, of course. But it had taken him more effort than usual, and it wasn’t because the demons were stronger than the ones he’d met before. His exhaustion and lack of food had taken their toll.

He gritted his teeth again, a sudden fury cleaving his forehead and darkening his eyes. He’d be damned if he let anyone stand in the ways of their escape. Kyrie waited at a safe distance, wrapped in his cloak. No harm would come to her if she stayed there. Now, it was time for action.

Vergil took a step forward, and then another one. When he approached the ornamentation on the floor near the gate, that same _something_ slithered nearer from the shadows. Vergil stopped, watching it come closer. In the background, he heard Kyrie softly cry out.  
A trained movement, and Yamato came unsheathed, ready to be drawn. Before Vergil, the thing came to a halt, the air vibrating and pulsating around it. It slowly rose, taking on the form of a flickering purple and black flame. Two green sets of eyes opened in the center, observing Vergil with a thoughtful, ancient intelligence. The shape of it kept changing: one moment it resembled a demon, then an animal, then something Vergil couldn’t name. Through its transformations, only the eyes stayed the same.

“Two lossst sssoulss, coming to bargain for a sssafe passsssage, issn’t iiiit? Ssssplendid, sssplendid indeeed.”

The voice that came from it was as sharp as a nail scratching over a board, and both Vergil and Kyrie winced at the ghastly sound.

“It hasss beeen too longg, yesss, too long ssssince I’ve had ssome fffunnn…”

Vergil snarled and drew Yamato.

“Let’s see if you’re ready for _my_ kind of fun,” he growled, speeding forward and slashing through the beast with precision. The flames flared up and split, then gathered again next to Vergil. He yelled in anger and striked sideward, the katana slicing through the air. Yamato was a weapon of the gods, a blade that could close portals to Hell itself. It passed through the demon with no trace of damage at all.

The creature spun in the air, floating around Vergil, chuckling to itself.

“Ohhohhhh, it fightsss, it fightssss ussss. But it doesssn’t know yet, it can’t hurt usss…”

That stopped Vergil. He lowered his sword and stared with cold disdain at the living mass of dark flames.

“Why do you think I can’t hurt you?” he scoffed at the shadow, keeping his nervosity at bay.

“Huhuhhh… It’ss over alllready? Sssshaaame, for ssshaame,” the shadow giggled, dancing around the half-demon.

“And it wantssss to know what we arrre, yesss, yesss…”

All of a sudden, the shadow sped forward, moving straight toward Vergil, whose eyes widened. He could barely move aside, out of the way of the incoming jet of demonic fire. Even then, he could feel a sharp tug at his hair, where the demon had hit him. When he turned, the shadow had taken on the shape of an old human, who held up his hand. In the dark palm, a lock of Vergil’s hair glimmered, silvery white against the pitch black flames that slowly devoured it.

“I ssseee, yesss, yessss…”

The double set of eyes turned to Vergil again, triumph flickering amidst the flames.

“Sssso your giffft for passsage isss a battle, sssson of Ssssparda?”

Vergil’s breath hitched in his throat - how...? Kyrie didn’t react to this revelation, as the demon had spoken in Vergil’s mind.

“You wannnted to know ourrr name, ssson of Ssssparda…”

The shadow slithered closer, circling Vergil, and finally rose up behind him. Vergil turned with a furious snarl and lifted Yamato up, the point aimed straight at the head of the monster. The flames laughed, an ugly cackling that echoed over the wastes of Limbo.

“I am alll that isss forgottenn. Everything that withhhered and died under my touchhh, every brave sssoull that wanted to passs to the next worllld…”

The flames flared up again and speared themselves into a point, moving to the tip of Yamato and curling down the blade. Vergil cursed and flung his katana to the right, at which the flames slithered like smoked, taking on their changing shape again when they came to a rest.

“Ahhhh… I forget ssso mucccch, halff-humannn. I even ffforgott howww to get hurrt, you ssseeee… A blade ssswings for mee, annd I forget where I exisssst, and it cutsss through nothingnesss…”

Vergil started circling the demon, his rage making place for a stone cold panic. He had never lost before, not ever since… He shook his head again, pushing away the painful memory.

“Knowing thissss… Will you ssstilll fight usss, ssson off Sssspardahhh?” the demon mocked.

The fingers that gripped Yamato’s hilt were white from the tension, and sweat pearled down Vergil’s forehead.  
Without a warning, the flames flowed forward again. This time, Vergil was prepared, but he couldn’t even dodge the beast now. Cold washed through his arm where the flames broke through his skin, and he cried out when the pain hit him.

“Vergil!”

Kyrie’s cry ringed through the ruins, fear contorting her young face when she came running.

“No, stay away!” Vergil yelled. Kyrie abruptly stopped running, but looked as if she wanted to jump in between him and the demon. Her soft brown eyes were wide with fear.

“What’sss thisssss, what’sss thisss indeed?”

The flames changed to purple, slithering in the direction of Kyrie. Vergil moved Yamato faster than a human’s eye could see, putting it between the demon and Kyrie.

“Your opponent is right here.”

“Hohohohhh…” the demon cackled, bringing its green sets of eyes back to Vergil.

 

“Only one perssonnn hassss ever besssted me, _cambion_ ,” the demon taunted.

“It wasss your fathhhher, off courssse… And you arrre not hhimmm.”

Of every attack the demon had thrown at him, this one hit home. Vergil winced at the mockery. He threw a hateful gaze at the demon, but couldn’t bring himself to move.

“Ohhh nno, you arre not hhimmm… You are muchhhh, muchhh weakerr…”

The words hit Vergil like a sledgehammer. The bindings around Yamato’s hilt creaked under the force he was gripping the blade with.

“You borrre me already, sssson of Ssssparda… Our fighhht isss meaningless…”

The demon rose above him, broadening its figure until the flames surrounded both Vergil and Kyrie, engulfing the air around them with dark tendrils.

“Let’ssss raissssse the ssstakesss, ssshhall we?” the demon hissed. “Next time I hhhit you, I will take ssssomething fffrom you… A memory perhapsss? Yessss,” it chuckled sadistically, “the memory offff who you arrrre. How doesss that sssound, Vergil, sssson of Ssssparda?”

All color drained from Vergil’s face at the threat. He lowered his head and his face contorted with anger, but beneath that, he felt nothing but fear. For all his effort, only to have this abomination take his legacy away from him? No, he couldn’t allow that-

“Ssssay goodbye to fffather dear, halfff-humannn,” the demon laughed, raising its wings. It moved up, preparing to strike again. In the blink of an eye, Vergil would forget who he was, the name of his father, the name of his brother, the name of his mother…

The flames roared forward, darkening all of the air around Kyrie and Vergil.

 

“STOP.”

 

In a moment, all had become quiet. When Vergil opened his eyes, he lay sprawled on the ground, knocked back by the force of the incoming gust of flames. Kyrie had her arms around him. She had tried to protect him, even though she was trembling like a leaf. She was crying without sound, her shoulders shaking while she clung to Vergil. In front of them, the flames were dancing, a double set of green eyes curiously observing Vergil and his terrified companion. It was Vergil who had called out to the demon, and now it was waiting, to see what he had to offer.

Vergil lowered his shoulders, and Kyrie sniffled while she looked up, her eyes red from the crying. Vergil sat up and put his hand on her back, bringing his forehead to hers. He closed his eyes when he felt her soft auburn hairs brushing against him, and stayed still for a moment. When he spoke, all strength had left his voice.

“Kyrie…”

She looked at him, with compassion and admiration still, after he had barely offered her any consolation.

“Kyrie… Sing for the gatekeeper. Sing as if your life depends on it.”

Her young face crumpled with confusion, not understanding what had transpired.

“Vergil, what-”

His voice broke when he talked again, and what he said came out barely audible.

“It’s asking a price I cannot pay. Only you can get us out of here.”

The look of confusion slowly cleared, and Kyrie’s jaw set with a glint of determination.

Behind them, the demon chuckled, hundred years of boredom erased from its ugly voice.

“Wellll, welll. Look at thhhattt. There may be hope fffor you stilll, half-humannn.”

  
  
  
** CREDO**

“CREDO!”

The soldier turned around and looked shocked at the direction from which his name had been shouted from. From between two destroyed buildings, Kyrie came running, her white dress badly damaged and full of red stains that looked like blood.

“Kyrie!!”

He carefully set the sack he’d been carrying on the ground and left the group of refugees, dashing towards his sister. She flew into his arms, her exhausted laughter ringing in his ears. Relief filled Credo, and he whispered a prayer to Sparda for bringing back the only family he had left. Then he felt how thin she had become, and how battered she looked.

“What happened, where were you gone?! We have looked everywhere for you!”

Credo sounded desperate, and Kyrie almost began crying again. She grabbed onto Credo’s arms and tried to tell the story.

“I was ...taken, but someone came with me and brought me back. He kept me alive all this time.”

Credo looked behind her, seeking through the ruins.

“Where is he? We need to thank him!”

Kyrie followed Credo’s gaze and looked sadly at the ruins. Even though they escaped Limbo, Fortuna didn’t look much better than the wastes they’d left behind.

“We parted ways when we came back, after he made sure I would get to you safely. I couldn’t convince him to stay. I tried Credo, but he left.”

Her face changed, an excited blush coloring her cheeks.

“Credo, where is Nero? I need to tell him something important!”

Credo frowned, wishing his sister wasn’t as infatuated with that bastard orphan as she was. But soon, it wouldn’t matter anymore.

“Nero is still fighting close by,” Credo smiled. “He’s been furious since you’ve gone missing. You better go calm him down. He was seen near the central plaza, last I heard.”

 

  **KYRIE**

Kyrie smiled at her big brother and left his grasp, turning on her heels to bring Nero the news, and to close him in her arms again. He would laugh his secret smile at her, and she would tell him that he was not alone.  
That he had family, family he thought he’d long lost.

**Author's Note:**

> The first song used is probably one of the most famous Latin hymns:Dies Irae.  
> Translation: 
> 
> “Preces meae non sunt dignae  
> Sed tu, bonus, fac benigne  
> Ne perenni cremer igne...”
> 
> "Worthless are my prayers and sighing,  
> Yet, good Lord, in grace complying,  
> Rescue me from fires undying."
> 
> “Oro supplex et acclinis  
> Cor contritum quasi cinis  
> Gere curam mei finis ...”
> 
> "Low I kneel, with heart's submission,  
> See, like ashes, my contrition,  
> Help me in my last condition."
> 
> Kyrie sings about her wish to leave Limbo unscathed, and I picked the most fitting parts of this hymn for their situation.
> 
> You can find the full text and translation here: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dies_irae 
> 
>  
> 
> The second song was a bit harder to choose, but I picked Corde Natus ex Parentis - a bit of an ironic choice.  
> “Corde natus ex parentis  
> Ante mundi exordium…”
> 
> "Of the Father's heart begotten,  
> Ere the world from chaos rose..."
> 
> “Quæque in his vigent sub alto  
> solis et lunæ globo  
> Sæculorum sæculis…”
> 
> "All that sees the moon's soft radiance,  
> All that breathes beneath the sun,  
> Evermore and evermore..."
> 
> Kyrie has a hunch of who Vergil is, but doesn't talk about this to him. Instead, she chooses a song that tells of gratefulness towards humankinds savior (here Sparda instead of God), and uses melancholy lyrics that paint an image of her home, Earth, where the moon still shines. 
> 
> You can find the full text and translation here: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Of_the_Father%27s_Heart_Begotten 
> 
>  
> 
> Just imagine these songs being used by the Order of the Sword and switch "God" with Sparda, "Jesu" with Sparda where possible and Maria... Yeah no, I didn't think that through too much XD


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